


Cashmere Butterfly

by GeneralLoki



Series: Strobing [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Sexual Content, lots of fluff, soft and light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 22:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7289230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralLoki/pseuds/GeneralLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse and Hanzo have been flirting around for awhile now. Missions together let them exchange charged looks when no one was looking. It let them stand a little closer and watch each other's backs. Oppositely, missions apart worked hard to implant a deep sort of anxiety in Jesse, one he didn't want to admit to. Maybe it was about time he stopped just flirting around the issue and actually got to speaking his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cashmere Butterfly

Hanzo burned at the edge of Jesse's mind—a fire he couldn't put out on hours he didn't want to admit to. They worked and played at times that always tempted them a little closer, inch by inch, but never quite getting there. Overwatch kept the both of them busy—that was one piece of the puzzle. The other was Jesse's inability to read a signal very well, if at all. He had every adoration for the other man and could only on occasion admit to himself the way he burned up for him; but thinking about acting on that left him feeling much more hazy. Was he rushing? Was this close fine? Was it fine to text him drunkenly at 2am, spill whiskey over his phone and leave Hanzo worrying for a day? He didn't know and yet it kept happening. 

Bit by bit Jesse settled in a little tighter on missions and travel. Awaiting orders to move out on the field found them side by side, fingers threaded together gently—just hidden between. He took a comfort in knowing Hanzo had his back and that his shots rang true. That lonely, drifting sensation he'd gotten used to on the battlefield faded in Hanzo's presence. Even if he were far back and Jesse was in the thick of it, he could feel Hanzo's eye on him and their collective enemies, keeping him safe. That kind of trust kept him warm and welcome at his side.

Not wandering alone anymore felt so right. 

After a few missions in quick succession that kept them in close company, another split them on different objectives. They agreed by text they would meet again after at one of the closer safehouses—probably empty, probably just the two of them. Jesse would have accepted company there sooner than working apart, but he would do his job. They were both professionals and adults on top of that. It couldn't hurt to go solo when he had to. 

They each had an area to clear through so take out security for the rest of the team to make the major move. It wasn't anything new—guards and systems were always in place to keep out rats like him. Thoughts still wandered at breaks—when bullets weren't grazing flesh and rattling his eardrums. He couldn't bother Hanzo over the com, but he couldn't help wondering. They were professionals. Tried and true, the best in their own class. He would be fine. 

A dry California sun filtered through the single tiny window in the security hall—iron bars over it casting an unfriendly shadow on a concrete gray floor. The storming of boots and battle had eased to a point Jesse could carry on a little more confidently. The familiar ringing of stirruped steps caught his ears—a sound usually ignored and unconscious at this point. Did anyone else think much of that sound? Something so very much a piece of his person. So very loud in this lonely hallway. 

His shoulders tensed. As he turned he felt a sting across his arm. His hand still grasped his gun, firing as he faced the other way now. He didn't even need full sight of this enemy to shoot him down—seasons of firing back and forth gave him an accurate gauge of where bullets hailed from. The one across his arm was no exception. A few more shots cleared the near silent newcomers behind him. 

The mechanical fingers of his left arm groped hesitantly toward the wound across his right arm. It was close. Their other shots missed, but that one was a graze. Something he was used to, but it had been awhile since someone sneaked up behind him. 

He worried about Hanzo. Like a fool he got caught up in those thoughts, but pushed on. He reached the main security threshold and shut down the system. Word came across communication that the other half had been shut down too. Hanzo would be alright. He had enough faith in him. And still thoughts plagued him. Jesse always had a mind to be concerned for his team mates, but Hanzo held a special spot, reserved for the worst anxieties. How long had it been since he really worked himself up thinking too hard on anyone else? 

That bubble around him had been a thin one—a look and appeal of someone who preferred to deal his justice alone. Just when did he take that stamp of lone vigilante, of self-professed badass? It felt hollow as he made his way back to meet up with the rest. Memories of Blackwatch still felt fresh against his skull. All the drilling and commanding under Reyes never left the surface of his skin, but deeper seeded he remembered the moments of camaraderie, looking out for one another, the sense of a team. Even if that team did fall apart in the end. 

He was the last person to get nostalgic and yet here he stepped, mind in tatters as he tried to put himself back in order. The mission was a full success regardless of where in space his thoughts were floating. That his legs led him to the agreed place to meet Hanzo was kind of a miracle too. 

Being the first one in gave him a chance to try and settle and sort himself out before the other made it. Jesse dragged his brain and body into the shower to decompress and clean up minor surface wounds. It stung, but he'd deal with it. Just like everything else. The McCree of a few months ago would be close to a bottle of something strong after this shower and, for that stretch under hot water, that sounded damn good. Thinking this hard felt out of character. Maybe he had been letting himself drift for too long. 

A towel dry, two deep breaths, pants back on, Jesse found his way out of the steam. He was going to dig through all the cabinets for whatever had alcohol and prepare himself with a glass before Hanzo made it him but while he had five drawers open and a mess of empty bottles frustrating laid out over the small counter space, the door opened. His shoulders tensed. 

Hanzo closed the door behind himself, standing only just beyond it for a moment. They exchanged awkward looks, but not words came out either. Not right away. 

“H-hey, runnin' late?” Jesse attempted, gently shutting one cabinet door, then the next. It was the most alien, slow-motion movement anyone had ever tried in that spot. 

Hanzo made an odd face at first, eyebrows knitted. “I made a stop along the way...I hesitate to ask what you are doing precisely.” 

“Lookin' fer a drink,” he admitted, finding it in himself to laugh and let it go. 

Free of the clutches of the doorway, Hanzo stepped forward, lifting up the bag in his hand. His other hand reached in, withdrawing a familiar glass bottle. “It was difficult to find what I wanted, but you are easier to please. A little celebration is in order, considering our successes today,” he explained shortly enough, setting the bottle on the counter. 

With the bottle now in a safe place, Jesse reached out and caught Hanzo tightly in a hug. “Yer seriously the best! I dunno how you knew, but you read my mind!” 

“You have messaged me enough while drinking. It is not a secret,” Hanzo tried in vain to deflect. When Jesse didn't immediately let him go, he relented and hugged him back. His hands found their way up Jesse's bare back—the skin to skin touch running chills up Jesse's spine. 

He disengaged, a touch flustered with himself. “Thanks. I prob'ly meant to say thanks first,” he got out, now unsure what to do with his hands. He wished he'd not let go. 

Hanzo straightened out and glanced to the sofa nearby. “You are welcome. Have a seat. I will take care of the drinks.” Unwilling to take any other answer, he went to gather cups from the shelves, the clink of glass noisy against the counter. 

“Lemme get my shirt,” Jesse muttered, starting to slink away.

“Don't bother. Sit,” Hanzo said firmly. That near order left Jesse frozen solid for a second. There was no “no” that was allowed to come after that. His face felt a little hotter at that and he sat down where he was told. 

“Thas' fine?” 

“It is fine.” 

Silence blanketed the two of them briefly—only the small sounds of glass to glass, liquid to glass filled that space comfortably. Hanzo turned with two evenly filled short cups, setting one into Jesse's hands, the other remaining comfortably in his own as he took a close seat next to him. Butterflies leapt up into his throat. Here he was—finally with this man who had an iron grip on his thoughts and he couldn't even speak. His fingers adjusted around his glass, eventually getting it into one hand—his left, so his right arm to could rest almost casually on the back of the couch behind Hanzo. For a second, he almost felt smooth. Any other time or day or anything and he would be relaxed, at home, cool and generally unflappable. He'd spent the day fixed on Hanzo's well being and _now_ was the time to freeze over. 

Hanzo leaned in a little closer, open shoulder close. He tilted his head back slightly as he took a drink. Jesse drank too, but mostly of looks Hanzo's way. The taste of every kiss lingered over the alcohol—the memories refreshing over and over in a few split seconds. 

“Did everythin' go okay?” he finally asked, like pulling teeth. 

“With the mission today? Of course. I wouldn't accept anything short of perfection. Were things so smooth on your end?” Hanzo said in return as he cast his gaze more directly Jesse's way—head tilted up slightly to catch his eyes. 

“Nothin' to worry about. I'm pretty good at this too, don' forget it,” Jesse said with a grin worming its way onto his lips. That he could be pretty confident about at least. 

Hanzo paused for a drink and only that long before his gaze wandered over the rest of Jesse's skin. He couldn't miss the path of his eyes, not when he was tangled up in them again. “You have been doing this for a long time too, haven't you?” he asked after a short silence. 

It took Jesse a moment to work out the meaning of that question. “Yeah. Worse stuff than today fer sure. I don' look like a novice out there, do I?” 

Hanzo rested back, returning his gaze to his drink. “People do not gain so many battle scars staying out of this sort of work.” 

He had a point. Jesse had plenty of leftover marks from nicks and close calls. And some from calls that were probably far too close and maybe too obvious now that he thought about it. But he'd assumed for a long time that was the norm. You throw yourself into a hail of bullets—a few are bound to strike or try to at least. Still, what he could see of Hanzo's skin seemed clear. Sort of. Maybe it was hard to see through the tattoo that took up most of the visible space. It wasn't like Jesse's eyes hadn't wandered further. Whenever he could. As soon as the opportunity presented itself. Right then too. He couldn't help feeling an ache that called for seeing just a little more. Putting words to that would be a disaster. 

“Yeah, kinda comes with the business. I been at this fer ages seems like now,” Jesse replied. He made the effort to turn his gaze on the wall. 

“It is not unsightly. I am sure we all have them.” 

A silence filtered in for a moment, Jesse weighing those words for that time. He didn't like to pry, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask one small question. “You too then, huh?” 

“Of course. I am good and there is no doubt in my skill, but it has been a long time for me as well. I made many mistakes in my youth,” he explained, the most Jesse had ever heard about his past. 

“I hear ya'. Same boat. Jumped in head first all the time, didn't think about what it was gonna cost me. Wound up in some pretty nasty scrapes fer it.” He could talk about it casually enough. That felt normal at least. People made terrible choices in their youth all the time—his just happened to be weapons dealing and running in with a very unsavory group to do it. He shut down any nostalgic thoughts that direction. The moment mattered more. 

The look on Hanzo's face felt hard to read. There was something of a gap between the two of them still. Whatever was behind them needed to remain there—Jesse could feel that strongly even now. Curiosity didn't overtake that. Hanzo's answer was nearly as measured as he guessed it would be. “Not an uncommon state of youth, I suppose...But allow me to even this out.” With that he sat up a little and with an easy move between a shoulder shrug, passing his drink hands and a pull back his arm was free of the one sleeve he wore. He made no efforts to hide what he'd exposed—a host of little battle scars here and there over his sides and a couple at the once covered arm. It wasn't too many that Jesse saw, but he couldn't look away from any of them either. In all honesty, he couldn't look away from any piece of Hanzo. 

Quiet eased in between them; Jesse lost in the new picture now embedding into his mind. There would be no mistaking Hanzo was waiting for something—what that was Jesse was just going to have to brave. 

Fire burning, he leaned in closer, almost smooth. His arm pulled in a little closer, hand at Hanzo's shoulder, other hand at his own chin—as if he were thinking deeply on this sight. He was drinking it in one way or another. Something quenched even this brief touch. 

“That's barely anythin' on you. Or it's real old an' faded,” Jesse said after milking the moment for all it was worth. His mind latched onto each second tightly—there was no telling when it would ever be back again. 

Hanzo's expression turned somewhat amused. He leaned into Jesse's arm around him, eyes his way to take up every inch of his attention. “I did say mistakes of my youth. Could you imagine my losing so badly today? Or tomorrow? Yesterday even?” Some trickle of his ego peeped through; although how much of it was play was hard for Jesse to call. Either way, he enjoyed it. The man had talent—tons of it. Nothing wrong with being self-assured that way. 

Jesse laughed, managing to keep close. He wasn't going to turn down a good close look like this after all. “Not likely. I got the utmost faith in you. Jus' do me a favor an' be careful anyhow,” he answered, finding a smile in there. Same as always—he could at least try to keep up. Still, he felt lingering pangs from the day's anxiety. Maybe that wouldn't hurt to just bottle up so he could enjoy the second he was in. He wanted to, but his mouth seemed intent on flapping anyway.

Hanzo's confident look eased back, an eyebrow raised. “That would be a favor to you? I'm doing so anyway.” 

“Yeah, well you know... Ya' wouldn't exactly be here drinkin' with me if ya' didn't. Thas' all,” Jesse bumbled his way through. His gaze needed to be anywhere else right then—he accepted the wall. Yes, the wall was perfect. 

It took only a second for Hanzo to lean in closer, making himself impossible to miss—their noses almost touching now. “Is this going to be how you tell me you were worried about me?” he pressed quite seriously.

Jesse glanced away before getting caught up in Hanzo's piercing gaze. “What kinda lame thing is that to tell you? That I'm worryin' about you on yer own? You can do it. My worryin' you is gonna be a bother.” 

“No, it is no bother. Feel free to tell me anytime in fact. The feeling is mutual. You run into gunfire and put yourself in compromising positions. I feel more at ease when I can at least cover for you when you take off like a fool,” Hanzo said quickly, words falling together in neat bunches—like this thought had been running practice laps in his mind. 

All the anxiety melted away in an instant. Jesse settled in more close, gave Hanzo a bigger, more crooked grin and jostled his shoulder a little. “Aw hell, thas' much better than jus' me worryin'. Also sounds like a pretty good partnership to me. Whadda'ya' say?” 

Hanzo's usually more steeled expression cracked, laughing unexpectedly. “I believe we are already in a different sort of partnership...but I will accept both of them.” 

Jesse stared for a moment. That answer took some picking apart. “Does that mean...yer gonna take all yer missions with me?” 

“I am trying to tell you I consider us dating.” 

“Oh, thas' mighty kind of you.” 

“This is the point where it would be good for you to agree to this arrangement.” 

For a second, no one said anything. Jesse couldn't seem to find the English language in him. There was probably something he needed to say, but what he couldn't find. Shock took over for his mind, lips parting to laugh. 

In a rare look, Hanzo slipped into embarrassment, his face red. “Don't just laugh! That still warrants some sort of answer. We have been flirting around this for ages. You don't take any of my hints. I have to be forward.” 

In that brief moment it all poured down on him. The text messages. Fingertips brushing by. Charged looks. The flirting mid-battle. Hanzo _had_ been clear, hadn't he? It left him laughing harder instead of answering still. This only served to frustrate Hanzo a little more, resorting to pulling away from Jesse's hold. The loss of warmth was enough to jostle him out of his stupor.

“Easy, easy! I agree! I totally agree. I didn' think about it. I was jus' doin' whatever felt right with you. I didn' think about gettin' into the officials.” 

“Are you against that?”

“No, I'm one hun'rd percent fer it. I wanna be yer partner, Hanzo. An' not in jus' the doin' missions kinda way,” Jesse got out, spurred into speaking his thoughts finally. Maybe some shock didn't hurt sometimes. 

Hanzo eased back in closer, looking far more pleased with that. A small smile settled over his lips in a way that made Jesse's heart tremble. The honesty in that look could have completely disarmed a man. 

“I'm glad then. You are a difficult man, but I admit...your company is valuable. I want more of it,” he answered, voice softer, lower. 

Jesse took that second to finally get to more of his drink. Any extra time to soak in that look wouldn't hurt either. “I'm getting' kinda hooked on havin' you aroun'...I agree. Stay with me, darlin'?” 

The nickname appeared to strike Hanzo by surprise and at the same time, the color picked back up in his cheeks. He was the kind of cute that left Jesse oozing into pudding on the spot. He couldn't take it well. At least not for long. He edged back in closer, one of his hands seeking out Hanzo's. Naturally, their fingers weaved together, the hold feather-light at first before they settled into each other. Hanzo pulled himself together and rather than giving a verbal response, he tilted closer and pressed his lips firmly and determinedly to Jesse's. 

That moment could have been all stars for all Jesse knew. It wasn't until after that it really hit him. He found himself so easily pressed closer, seeking just a little more of Hanzo's taste—more familiar, stained a little by whiskey, but something he didn't mind at all. A fever rushed over his face and he found himself clasping Hanzo's hand tighter. When they did part, he felt breathless, even if the touch was no where near so long. Words hung up in his throat. Nothing filled that sea of emotion adequately. 

He couldn't quite figure out what he'd done to warrant having such an incredible person so close, so very fixed on him right at that second. Guilt flittered away at a chance for a moment that might possess his thoughts and body a little longer. A familiar ache drew him a hair closer. 

Hesitation—silent, for permission—their lips met again. In a flurry, they met again and again—seized by the moment and not stopped by anything else. Time found them once more only when, somehow between them, a breath or two mattered again. Neither parted eyes and Jesse couldn't help getting caught up in the feeling of Hanzo's breath up against his skin. 

That breath teased the edge of his ear as Hanzo drew near. Lips parted, he murmured, “I want more of you.” 

Chills coiled their way up Jesse's spine, leaving him in a hard exhale. “Who could tell you no when you say it like that...?”

Hanzo's lips hovered close for a moment before pressing just below his ear. “You could. I'm asking you.” 

“I mean technically you didn't as—“ Jesse started, but stalled when he felt a nip of Hanzo's teeth at his ear. 

“I'm asking you now. I'll take no offense if you tell me no,” Hanzo said a little more evenly, drawing back to give Jesse some space to think. 

Even with that short distance, all he could think about was wanting to close it back up again. Thoughts fell in avalanches. He could have said anything, maybe everything if he could crush down the English language so tightly to fill that gap. Nothing revolutionary rose out of the drifts, only a rising heat in his face and a desperate jumble of words strung together in a rush. “I'm tryin' to say I don't wanna tell you no. Have me!” he blurted. 

Hanzo stared almost blankly for a moment—maybe in disbelief more than anything else. After a second he cracked, chuckling—one hand pulled back over his mouth just slightly as if it would hide it. “You...did not have to put it that way...If you wanted me so badly...”

“I'm not desperate! I'm not sayin' no an' it's comin' out funny!” 

A look Jesse could hardly describe settled over Hanzo's features; something like an affectionate smile, amused and contented in a way, before he leaned in closely again, his arms moving to snake around Jesse's body as he brought himself into his lap. “That is fine too...I expect as much with you,” Hanzo admitted, his lips dotting places along Jesse's neck while his hands felt over his back and sides. 

“Yer sayin' you don't expect much...” Jesse muttered when he found himself again. Slowly, his arms encircled Hanzo as well. If he was close, why hold out. 

“Not exactly. I anticipated you being so flustered by all this. I find it endearing,” he said in return, kisses pressed between words as he felt the desire to do so. 

“You looked pretty damn surprised to me,” Jesse said a touch lower. He did let his arms pull him a little closer. It felt better than expected to be wrapped up in Hanzo like this. Every touch was affectionate and each kiss seemed saturated—like he'd charged up emotionally and held himself back for this moment. Maybe he'd been thinking on this for quite some time as well. 

“I had braced...And still, I suppose, it couldn't be helped.” 

The more his lips touched down the more Jesse found himself struggling to keep any amount of composure. It felt like a dream and like something vividly real all at once. His heart raced and his hands wandered more freely. Fingertips brushed across Hanzo's skin in a distinct way of getting to know him—learning every curve and dip personally. In return, Hanzo did the same, the feeling of his hands sending more pleasant sensations rolling down his spine. The air between them felt hot and for a second Jesse lost track of the conversation entirely. It was so easy to get tangled up with Hanzo this way, it seemed natural. He must have distantly considered this scenario over and over, but the real thing was far more pleasing than an unclear mirage of his mind. 

“I enjoy your attention either way. I have hardly earned the privilege, but do not look away if you can stand it,” Hanzo said after a short period filled with his touch, lips near Jesse's ear again.

“Yer incredible, darlin'. My eye's always on you,” Jesse answered more smoothly—or at least he hoped it sounded that way. In truth, it felt like he was going to fall apart any second. Up this close there would be no hiding the intensity of that sensation. 

Hanzo straightened up and slightly away, still sitting over his lap. One arm drew around from his back and settled more at his hip. Chills shook through skin and up to Jesse's mind. There was something pointed about that touch—it had purpose. With all the same meaning, Hanzo's fingertips brushed along his skin, reaching for the button of his pants. 

“Keep watching then. Can you do that?” he asked, voice dipping lower, almost dangerous. The fire in his eyes struck Jesse deep. No part of this motion was half-hearted—Hanzo looked to mean it all entirely. His fingers grazed closer, loosing the button and zipper in a way that made the sound echo through his skull. A crooked little smile settled on Hanzo's lips, his hand close. “Already so worked up...” 

“Yer stripped down on top of me; what do you want me to do?” Jesse blurted out in a hushed whisper, like this was some kind of secret he could keep. Too late for that now. 

Hanzo's grin grew as his fingers clenched at all the fabric at his waist—starting to pull downward. Jesse tensed in anticipation, his breaths turning heavy, hotter. 

“I want you exactly like this,” Hanzo answered lower still, almost a rumble as he drew his lips closer for kiss over a longer reply. Intent on multitasking, Hanzo's hand drew nearer to where Jesse was most sensitive, his fingertips teasing at the very tip. Jesse groaned in the middle of their kiss—already feeling his whole body light up. 

When they parted finally, a hard breath left his lips, his eyes glancing below where Hanzo had already started stroking easily and back up to the watchful and affectionate gaze Hanzo kept on him. For all his worrying and pining earlier today, he hadn't expected to wind up here. And now that he was, a piece of him didn't believe it. He wasn't sure what he'd done to warrant this kind of attention from Hanzo either—both at a loss perhaps. Hanzo was one of the few in Overwatch he felt at ease opening up with—a kindred spirit in troubled times and yet also someone he wasn't sure if he could be up to standard for. Hanzo was particular, sharp, intelligent, handsome, and put together. And somehow, in all his mess, Hanzo picked him as the one to keep his eyes on. Never straying—deeply engaged in the way his face heated up, the way his lips remained parted for more hot breaths, and how his body relaxed back after release—a low and wanting groan the signal for where his patience could hold him no more after what seemed like an age of stimulation. That moment of bliss left his body tingling—a piece of him almost anticipating more already. He felt almost overheated and still in a state of shock that it was even Hanzo who was willing to bring him here. 

Even as Jesse was gathering his breath back, Hanzo met his lips again, deep and short, in a kiss more deeply impassioned than the ones previous to it. Once they parted, Hanzo's lips found their way to Jesse's neck again, half-resting, half-touched with the intent of a kiss. When he spoke, his voice still carried an intensity that made Jesse feel intoxicated. He hadn't had nearly enough whiskey for this. 

“How was that?” he asked in that tone that left Jesse's head spinning. Even the smallest kiss felt powerful still. 

“Too good...Wish it didn' end,” Jesse muttered in reply. His thoughts swam through his head, feeling weighed and floaty together. Language functioned somehow in that sea. 

“It doesn't have to. I would see and feel more of you if you'd join me,” Hanzo said in such a way that Jesse felt himself melting on the spot. 

“Hell...I want more too.” 

Hanzo got up almost suddenly at that, stalling only to bend over and meet Jesse for another deep but short kiss. He snatched the bag on the counter when he was done and took one of Jesse's hands firmly in his own. “Come with me then,” he insisted, looking almost a little flustered, but the excitement in his eyes was impossible to miss. 

“Easy!” Jesse got out, but Hanzo's rush to get him up still pulled him from the seat, his free hand the only thing really holding his pants so he didn't tangle and trip in them. When he realized this trip was leading them to one of the bedrooms, he hurried to join. 

 

* * *

Hours later found them laid out in bed, spent condoms tossed aside in a haphazard hurry, either of them tangled up in each other's embrace lazily. Nearly out of it, Jesse found himself staring at the ceiling. Hanzo had enough forethought to get everything they needed for this little venture, something he only now realized how grateful he was for it. All his excitement for all of this falling together gave him a new burst of life and he flopped over to hug tightly onto Hanzo, nuzzling in at his neck. 

“When're we doin' this again?” he asked affectionately, taking his turn to sneak idle kisses. 

“You should take a longer break. Relax for a moment,” Hanzo answered casually enough. His arms wrapped around too, fingers toying with the ends of Jesse's hair. 

“I don' exactly mean that. I mean us, together. You got time to keep meetin' me?” 

“If you would still have me.”

“I'd have you on me again in another five minutes if ya' let me.” 

They exchanged glances before they both cracked and grinned. “You can't even keep track of your own question. What am I to do with you, Jesse McCree?” 

Jesse grinned broader. “You let me on top of you next.” 

Hanzo's smirk grew too, a laugh barely held back. “Give me five minutes.”


End file.
